


Interrupted

by phoenixwings



Series: Discussions and Desires [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bondage, Dom Castiel, Dom/sub, Feathers & Featherplay, Gentle Dom Castiel, Humor, Interrupted Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mention of spanking, POV Dean Winchester, Rope Bondage, Sam Needs Brain Bleach, Sexual Humor, Sub Dean, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Tickling, implied Dom Charlie, implied bobby/ellen, mentioned Sam/Jess, mentioned charlie/gilda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 14:39:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3613707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwings/pseuds/phoenixwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean and Castiel keep getting interrupted, Dean curses his observant friends, and everyone needs brain bleach.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 of the Discussions and Desires verse, but you can understand this fic without reading Part 1. I will definitely not be updating this verse daily, but lately the fic-writing bug has got me so I figured I might as well take advantage of it.
> 
>  **Contains:** a lot of interrupted sex, tickling, teacher/student role-play, mentioned(but not shown) spanking, sub Dean, dom Cas, unintentional embarrassing situations, and no actual sex except for a few brief lines in the third part.

**One**

The first time it happens, Dean is tied to the bed with rope while Castiel tickles him with a feather. Castiel drags the feather across the sides of Dean's stomach and Dean laughs, twisting his torso while his arms remain pinned to the bed by the rope. He bites his lip as Castiel moves the feather upward, circling it just around Dean's nipples but not letting it touch. Dean bucks upward. He's not even sure anymore if he's trying to get closer or further away.

“Please, sir,” Dean begs. Castiel’s face flushes with desire, but he doesn't show it otherwise, just smiles.

“Patience, Dean,” He instructs, but then brushes the tip of the feather over a nipple. Dean whimpers from the contact, but it doesn’t last long as Cas moves the feather back down over Dean’s stomach.

“I’m gonna get you back for this,” Dean promises. Cas pauses the movement of the feather, and Dean adds hastily, “Sir.”

The corners of Castiel’s lip tug upward and Dean can see the crinkles in the corner of his eyes as Cas tries not to laugh. In retaliation, Cas sets the feather down beside Dean on the bed and starts tickling Dean’s side with his fingers. Dean’s full on laughing now. Normally, he would try to curl in on himself and roll over, but since his arms are tied to the headboard, there’s not a whole lot he can do. He tugs on his ropes, but they stay firm.

“Cas,” Dean whines. Cas might be laughing too, but he’s still full-on in his dom mode, and he shakes his head. He does relent from Dean’s stomach, though, and moves down further to tickle the back of Dean’s knee. It’s still a lot of sensation, but Dean’s not as ticklish there as he is over his stomach and sides, so it’s a reprieve of a sort.

Dean takes the moment to catch his breath. He pushes down the urge to roll his hips up, because he doesn’t get to decide the pace today. Castiel does, and he’s taking his sweet time.

Cas pauses from his ministrations to sit back on his heels and looks straight at Dean. The smile has left his face, which Dean thinks is probably a good thing and means they’re going to get the show on the road, but Dean never gets to find out what command Cas was going to give, because that’s when the doorbell rings.

Dean’s mouth goes dry as he takes in his situation. There’s a length of rope that goes from his elbow all the way up to his wrist. There's a strong knot tying that length of rope to one of the post of the bed frame. There’s no way he can get out of it quickly.

Cas’ eyes widen in surprise.

“We’re not expecting anyone, are we?” He asks. Dean shakes his head.

“Maybe it’s someone selling something,” Cas says. “I’ll go get rid of them."

Dean nods, because there’s not much else he can do, tied up as he is, and at least Cas is wearing clothes, unlike himself.

“Shut the bedroom door,” Dean calls out. Cas closes the door, which muffles the sound, but Dean listens as intently as he can. He hears Cas scrape the front door open. Dean’s stomach sinks as he hears Cas greet Sam.

Great. Dean must have done something absolutely horrific for karma to repay him by having his brother drop by when him and Cas were on their happy way to kinky and fantastic sex. Awesome.

“Is Dean around? His car’s in the driveway,” Dean hears Sam say.

“He’s—ahh—he’s, um, napping,” Cas says.

When this is over, Dean’s determined to teach Cas how to lie convincingly. He's always been shit at it.

“Dean!” Sam calls.

“He was very tired this morning,” Cas says, sounding almost desperate in his lie. “I’ll go wake him.”

Dean practically holds his breath as he listens to Cas’ footsteps down their hallway. The bedroom door opens slightly and Cas slips into their room, going over to the bed and trying to make quick work of the ropes.

“You heard?” Cas asks.

“Yeah. Wasn't expecting him to come over today, though.”

Sam had found a position at a law firm in Lawrence after his graduation at the beginning of the summer. Dean and Cas had just helped him and Jess move into their new house two weeks ago. Dean hadn’t been expecting to see much of Sam for a few weeks as they settled in and he got started at his new job.

Castiel hisses as he struggles against the final knot, but eventually the ropes fall away. Dean dons a pair of athletic shorts from the top of their laundry hamper--Cas wrinkles his nose, but doesn't say anything--and Cas tosses him a KU shirt. There. That should suffice. 

Dean follows Cas into the living room. He gives an exaggerated yawn for Sam’s benefit.

“Hey Sammy,” Dean greets, “What’s up?”

“I’m going to propose to Jess ton—” Sam cuts off mid-sentence, glancing down at Dean’s arms, which Dean has crossed over his chest without thinking. Dean looks down. _Oh._

Cas is always careful when they do anything involving ropes or cuffs, but he was also thorough. The ropes he had tied around Dean's arms earlier had been snug. Not tight enough to be dangerous, but nothing Dean could easily get out of, and as Cas had tickled him and Dean had strained against the restraints, the friction of the ropes had left some temporary marks up and down his arms. Already the clear impressions were starting to fade, but right now they were unmistakable. Sam’s eyes trail over to Cas, who looks much less compromising in jeans and a button-down shirt, but he’s still flushed from their earlier activity, and as Sam glances back and forth between them, it’s pretty obvious to Dean that he’s adding it all up.

“Oh my God,” Sam groans, “You weren’t sleeping at all, were you? I thought the days of walking in on you were over! Haven't I suffered enough?"

Damn Sam and his sharp observance skills.

“Sam—” Cas starts, but Sam holds up a hand and Cas stops.

“I don’t want to know the details!” Sam exclaims. “Just. . . call me when you’re done. We’re having everyone over for dinner tonight, after I propose, so be at our house at eight, okay? Okay. And let's agree we'll never speak of this again.”

Sam practically flees from their house with a hand over his eyes.

Castiel looks at Dean out of the corner of his eyes, a sheepish smile on his face.

Well, Dean thinks, that was pretty much the biggest boner-killer of all time.

 

* * *

 

**Two**

The second time they’re interrupted, Dean’s bent over the desk in their home study. Drops of sweat drip down from his forehead onto the desk below and his arousal throbs between his legs. Castiel’s hand trails down Dean’s back and squeezes Dean’s sore ass. Dean hisses, the flesh still tender from the spanking Cas had just doled out.

“I don’t know if you’ve learned your lesson yet, Mr. Winchester,” Cas says. Dean shivers at the authority in his voice.

“Please, Professor Novak,” Dean pleads.

The doorbell rings and Dean groans in frustration, thumping one of his fist on top of the desk. Ever since they had started this whole dom/sub thing, Dean had been fantasizing about a professor/student role-play. It had gotten to the point where Dean could hardly ask Cas how his work day went without growing tight in his pants. It had taken months before they had gotten around to fulfilling this particular fantasy of Dean's, and now they're being interrupted. 

Cas freezes. Dean's suddenly grateful that Cas has a thing when they scene where he likes to keep his clothes on as long as possible while Dean is completely naked. Cas tugs on his shirt, rolling the sleeves back down, and adjusts his obviously tented pants. He takes a moment to pause and lean against the door frame before strolling towards their front door.

Dean picks up his clothes from the floor, but he doesn’t put them on yet. If it’s a salesperson or one of their overly-nice neighbors, Dean sees no point in slowing down the process of picking up right where they left off. 

Dean hears Bobby’s gruff voice as soon as Cas opens the door. 

“Ellen made some extra pies,” Bobby explains, and Dean’s already zipping up his jeans. By the time Bobby’s asking where Dean is—though in less polite terms—Dean’s shirt buttoned and he's racing to the living room. 

“Hey Bobby,” Dean greets, “I heard you mention pie?”

“Blackberry and cherry,” Bobby says, then holds them out. “Well take ‘em boy, do I look like a cake stand to you?”

Dean takes the pies and pulls the foil back on one to peek underneath. His mouth waters at the sight of the flaky, golden crust. There’s some extra filling oozing from a hole on the blackberry pie and Dean’s pretty sure he can already taste it.

“Would you like a slice?” Cas asks Bobby, because he’s always been the better-mannered of the two of them.

Bobby shifts a bit. “I can’t stay long—we’re doing inventory at the roadhouse,” Bobby explains, “But I’ll take a piece of blueberry if you promise not to tell Ellen.”

“Done,” Castiel agrees.

“I’ll go cut ‘em. You want a slice?” Dean asks Cas.

“Cherry, please.”

Dean takes the pies into the kitchen and places three slices on plates. He has to bend over slightly to get a knife from the drawer, and the denim rubs against his raw skin, causing him to hiss. In his hurry to get dressed when he heard Bobby’s voice, he had forgotten his boxers. That wouldn’t be a mistake he made again.

It takes some skill, but eventually Dean manages to hold all three plates at the same time. He delivers them to the living room, where Cas and Bobby have started talking about Castiel's classes. Dean heads back to get the forks, because he knows if he has to hear Cas talk about his classes he won't be able to stop his mind from fantasizing about their previous activity, and that makes him feel weird considering Bobby's in his house. 

Dean winces as he sit down on the couch, still freshly sore, and Bobby, observant bastard that he is, catches it. He narrows his eyes, fork raised halfway through his mouth.

“You all right?” Bobby asks. Cas places his free hand on Dean’s denim-clad knee—a gesture of solidarity, Dean guesses. Or just general affection.

“I’m fine,” Dean says around a mouthful of blueberry pie.

“This pie is awesome,” Dean declares to the room at large, trying to get the focus off of him. He shifts a little on the couch, because the thing is a sinkhole of doom—they really need to replace it, Dean thinks—and winces again. Now that he notices the pain, though, and how it feels every time he moves, Dean can’t seem to keep still despite his best efforts. Cas starts stroking this thumb over the Dean’s knee, and Dean knows it’s supposed to reassuring,but at the moment it's a reminder of how a different part of his body feels. 

After Bobby’s finished his piece of pie, he starts staring at Dean, a concerned expression on his face.

“I’m fine,” Dean says again before Bobby can ask, the couch cushion shifting underneath him again. He tries to keep his face blank, but it doesn’t work. Bobby glances down at Dean’s knee, where Cas’ still has his palm resting, then back to the grimace on Dean's face. Dean kinda doubts Bobby could ever guess _exactly_ what they had been doing, but Dean knows that Bobby's sharp and can gather the general idea. He can practically see the gears turning in the older man's head.

“Aw hell,” Bobby curses.

Cas turns beet-red.

 

* * *

 

**Three**

Maybe they’re lucky, Dean thinks. The benefit of owning their house means that while their friends and family might sometimes interrupt them “in the act”, so to speak, they’re not really ever caught in media coitus. They don’t live with anyone else, and the houses are pretty spread-out in this neighborhood, so the chances of being caught in the middle of kinky sex should actually be at zero.

Except they’re not actually that lucky. Dean’s too hyper-focused on Cas and the situation to even hear the front door opening. Cas has pushed Dean’s knees up, folded back against his chest, and has taken to teasing Dean by lightly stroking his cock with just enough pressure to feel good but not enough to get him off. Dean groans as Cas turns the vibrating plug Dean’s been wearing up a setting with one hand, other hand still slowly moving up and down. Dean wants to plead, but he’s been giving instructions not to talk, so he stays mostly silent except for the whimpers and moans he can’t hold back.

“ _Oh my Spock_!” Charlie’s recognizable voice exclaims from the open doorway of their bedroom.

Castiel grabs the a blanket from the bedroom floor and throws it over their bed.

“How’d you get in? What the hell are you doing here?” Dean bellows at Charlie, but the effect he's going for is lessened by the fact he has to pant between each word, still out of breath from Cas' teasing. Cas shifts on the bed and the minute friction of the comforter against his cock makes Dean whimper, which he tries to pass off as a cough. His dick apparently hasn’t gotten the message that this is no longer an arousing situation.

Charlie holds up their spare set of keys. “Cas gave me your spare keys to water his plants while you two were on vacation, remember?”

Charlie shakes the keys until they’re clacking against each other like it’s supposed to spur Dean’s memory.

“Right,” Dean says, slumping against the headboard. Embarrassment replaces his previous ire. He had meant to call Charlie and tell her they had returned from their vacation earlier than expected.  Dean hears a faint buzzing sound and he realizes it's the plug he's still wearing. He can only hope Charlie can’t hear it from where she stands. That, at least, causes his erection to fade.

“What the hell are _you_ doing here?” Charlie asks. “You’re supposed to be in Florida being the cute gay couple on the beach in a Kindle commercial until Tuesday.”

“We had to leave early,” Cas explains, his voice faint like he can’t believe this is happening, “Hurricane.”

“Oh, right,” Charlie nods, “I saw that on the news. Well, um, since I’m here and all and you're busy I’m just gonna go water your plants in the study and hopefully wash that image out of my brain for good. Bye now!"

Dean sighs and buries his face in a pillow. Cas reaches down and removes the plug, but Dean's still too mortified to remove the pillow from his face. Maybe he’ll die here from sheer humiliation. It seems preferable to having to look anyone in the eye ever again.

“Dean?” Cas asks cautiously. Dean doesn’t move, but he does allow Cas to remove the pillow.

“Oh my God,” Dean mutters. “Charlie saw my ass.”

“I think she saw a bit more than that.”

“Not helping,” Dean says, sitting up a little and rubbing a hand over his face.

“What the hell, man? Why does this keep happening to us?”

Cas looks like he’s about to answer when they hear an _“Aw, fuck,”_ from Charlie, somewhere in the direction of Cas’ study. Dean pulls on a pair of boxers, not even bothering with a shirt—he figures if Charlie just saw his ass, she can handle his bare chest—and runs towards the study.

“What happened? You okay?” Dean asks.

Charlie looks up from the floor. There’s potting soil in her hair and on the carpet. Pieces of a ceramic pot litter the area around her. 

“Yeah,” Charlie says. “I knocked that pot off the desk. Sorry. I saved the plant, though.”

She holds out some sort of fern. Cas takes it, cradling it like a child. Dean really hopes he doesn't start talking to the plant. He might put-up with Castiel's "go green" stuff, but if his boyfriend starts talking to the plants Dean's going to have to hold an intervention.

“I’ll go replant it,” Cas says. Dean glances at the mess on the floor.

“I’ll get the vacuum.”

With the three of them working, the disaster zone gets cleaned up quickly. Once it’s all taken care of, Charlie slumps against the side of the desk on the study floor.

“So,” She says with a grin, “I didn’t realize you and Cas were so kinky.”

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this,” Dean mutters, mostly ignoring her.

“I should have known you’d like to be bossed around in the bedroom, though. Makes sense, when you think about it."

“Charlie,” Dean pleads. “If you drop this subject, I’ll buy you a collectible figurine of your choice.”

Charlie narrows her eyes. “Nice try, Winchester. You can’t bribe me. C’mon, I’m your best friend. I’m supposed to get the 4-1-1 on all this stuff. I mean, I don’t need, like, details or anything, and I might gouge out my own eyes if I have to see it again, but besides that, spill.”

Dean flops down onto an armchair and rubs at the back of his neck.

“I guess I just kinda like giving up control? It’s nice, to know I don’t have to worry about anything. Cas has a plan and I just have to follow it. And he likes it too.”

Charlie nods. “I get that. I mean, there’s a lot of interesting stuff there, you know? Like you always had to be in control growing up, looking out for your brother—”

“Don’t do a psych analysis on me while I’m in the room,” Dean objects.

“Fair enough,” Charlie agrees, “But I do get it. That power exchange can be nice. It can feel great.”

Dean narrows his eyes. “How do you know so much about this?”

“What?” Charlie grins, “You think I’ve never tied Gilda up?”

“Huh,” Dean says. "Ain't this a day for surprises."

Charlie huffs. “You’re not picturing it, are you?”

Dean grimaces. “Hell no. That’s as bad as picturing Sam and Jess.”

“Good,” Charlie shoots back. Dean runs a hand through his hair, considering if he really wants to voice what he's wondering. He doesn't want to get too many details about whatever his practically surrogate-sister and her girlfriend do. Then again, Charlie did just see him naked with his ass on display, so it's not like it can get much worse, right? 

“So hey, when you say tie up do you mean you ropes or cuffs or what? Because we've tried both of those a few times, and like I don't want to be hog-tied or anything, but I feel like we've kinda been doing the same thing. I mean Cas will tie my wrist together or cuff my ankles, and I like that all, but I'd like to try some new things. . . "

 

 

 


End file.
